Sunflower
by Red Appassionata
Summary: And when Shikamaru's demons are too much for him to bear it alone, he goes to the most troublesome woman in his life - his big sister. Rated for language. Please read author's note inside.


Hello, dear reader!

**_This is very important, so please read this before you continue on with the story._**

I apologize in advance, but these are my jumbled thoughts I decided to put into words before they drove me insane. This story was mostly written to get the idea out of my mind, so I wouldn't find it likely for me to make it a full out story. I'll be updating this whenever inspiration strikes, which varies a lot. For this reason, the story will be classified as complete. Later on, if I decide to fully commit myself to it, I'll change it to ongoing.

Please enjoy the story, and forgive me if it's too confusing or badly written, I just really wanted to write this as soon as possible.

I'll also explain the title soon enough, don't worry (:

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

* * *

I had always believed in God and all it entitled.

It wasn't something forced. My parents were Christian and strongly encouraged me to follow in their steps, but also made me understand that I was free to believe in what I thought was right, and that I should be independent enough to do so.

Even so, I believed in God. I went to church on Sundays, confessed my sins to the priest once a year and strove to be a better person every day.

My life wasn't thrilling, and I was lucky to consider myself blessed. I had kind parents, a loving little brother and lived comfortably enough. I drove to college every day, where I studied to be a neurologist, my all-time dream. Routine was rough, but I loved what I was doing. I had friends and even though I wasn't popular, I considered myself surrounded by love.

I was young and tried to live life to the fullest.

When it all was suddenly ripped away from me, I felt lost and confused.

I don't remember much of it. But then again, my memory wasn't something I was proud of.

It was a normal day, as any other, really. On the way to college, on a Monday, a drunk driver took it all from me. There was no pain, only blood –so much blood – and a lot of noise.

Then, nothing.

I believed in life after death. As in, reincarnation. As my physical body would decay with time, my soul would be preserved and sent to live in another body, sent to live another life.

* * *

It took a lot of time for me to realize I'd been indeed reincarnated, not to mention in a place I wouldn't have thought possible, not even in my wildest dreams.

Again, my memory is not the best. It never was. But I remember with disturbing clarity a few things from my first months of life.

One, was that I was incredibly warm. I didn't know where I was, but it was warm and cozy, and it was enough for me. As all good things, it soon came to an end, and it soon followed a bright light, too much noise and suddenly I was freezing. I felt weak and helpless, and felt big hands all over me, until darkness overcame me again.

When I next came to, the first thing I felt was pain. It hurt _everywhere_, but the headache was especially merciless. I had no idea where I was, I couldn't see or hear properly and I didn't even have the strength to lift my hands. So I cried, like the crybaby I'd always been.

Life was a blur after that. I didn't know how much time had passed, but one day, when I woke up, the pain was no more and I was cozy and warm again.

This time, it wasn't enough.

I opened my bleary eyes, and the unfocused sight brought me a face I couldn't quite recognize. A giant female face was staring right back at me, and it was all it took for me to cry my heart out yet again.

_Where am I?!_, I remember thinking. _What the fuck is going on?,_ was also a frequent question.

It took me awhile to realize that yes, I was a young adult in a baby's body, and that the woman holding me was not my mother.

Days passed, and I was in a daze. I was quite sure that I wasn't supposed to keep the memories of my previous life after I was reincarnated. For a few days, I behaved. I didn't cry nearly as often as I had in the beginning, and most of the time I felt content, if not a little bored. So I played with the warm feeling I felt inside of me. I played with chakra, though at the time I didn't even fathom the possibility of it.

Chakra is something very strange and unique, very hard to describe. It was warm and energizing, flowing through your body in calm waves. In that sense, it was very similar to the circulatory system. Since chakra is a mix of physical and spiritual energy, molding it required both the extraction of the energy of my body cells and my mind's full focus, so it took a lot of energy. In response, whenever I wasn't playing around with chakra, eating or pooping, I was sleeping.

I mention the term play around, but all I did as a baby was try and focus my chakra (which at the time I dubbed as strange energy) in different parts of my body, and also in different amounts. The bigger the amount, the more I felt it. It gradually begun as a very light tickling, and from then on it went until it became a very insistent itch. Whenever I pushed beyond that point, I felt acute pain and slept for hours on end.

Life continued in a slow pace, and I found it strange that I always saw a woman's face, and always the same. She fed me, changed me, and lulled me to sleep. Sometimes she'd look at me funny, as if she knew something I didn't, but then I smiled at her and she'd smile back and kiss my forehead.

My days as a oblivious baby didn't last much, but I didn't have room to complain. I was content most of the time, and the only set backs were my slightly blurred sight, the fact that I couldn't understand shit of what my mother said and that I had no idea where I was. Other than that, I was pretty happy.

On a particularly cold day, I was busy trying to channel the strange energy into multiple points of my body while the one I now considered my mother was making dinner when an odd noise stopped me dead in my tracks. It was loud, and it seemed to resonate within the house. The wood floor creaked, and I ceased to move.

The door to my room opened, and an odd figure came in my line of vision. The person, seeing I was awake, picked me up from my crib with all the care in the world, and held me as if I were the most fragile china. The stranger ran a rough finger over my cheek, and I extended my arms towards the person's face, willing it to come closer.

When it did, I almost had an epiphany.

Looking at me and holding me in his arms was Nara Shikaku and his tired, but incredibly happy and peaceful face. He mumbled something I couldn't recognize and smiled softly at me, kissing me briefly in the forehead. I looked at him with wide eyes, thoughts running too fast for my small brain to keep up, thus allowing a headache to be born.

I paid no mind to it as he continued to hold me.

The man didn't yet have the scars, but other than that there was no shadow of doubt as to who he was. His dark hair was kept up in a spiky ponytail and his beard more often than not tickled my face. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a glimpse of green, which could be his jonin jacket.

One thing he said stood above all else, and it only served to confirm my fears.

"… Yoshino …"

I started crying the moment I realized what that name meant.

It wasn't my name, that I knew. It was my mother's name.

At six months old, I realized I was the first born child of Nara Shikaku and Yoshino, and allowed myself to cry for all it meant.

* * *

A couple of months later, I was well past the denial stage and was steadily moving on with my new life. Shikaku, my father, always kept an eye on me whenever mom couldn't, and I delighted in his attention. As such, I did everything I could to catch and keep it.

Now I realize that wasn't a very smart move on my part, especially concerning the clan I was born in, but at the time I only cared about my father's opinion.

See, before I entered college I was addicted to Naruto. I read every manga chapter and saw every episode of the anime. I played all the games and got my hands on whenever plushies I could. My favorite characters were always the smart ones, and Shikamaru held a special place in my heart. Knowing there was a high chance we'd be siblings was something that excited me to no end.

I also loved my parents deeply. Mom was a retired kunoichi and scolded me firmly, but I could tell she loved me. Shikaku was a serious man, but didn't hold back his chuckles and hugs when I was around. If I was happy before, nevermind now.

Seeing as I was in the Naruto world, a lot of things made sense. The reason I couldn't understand what was being said was because it was said in Japanese, and I only ever knew the basics of it. Not only that, but I knew, then, that the strange energy was chakra. There were a lot of chakra signatures far away and that I could only have a brief taste of, but I learnt to recognize my parents' chakra signature rather well.

One day, while I patiently sat in the living room floor waiting for mom to fix my lunch, I felt before I heard dad come. He slid the door open, smiled at me and went into the kitchen, where my mother was. Put out that I didn't get the attention I wanted, I puffed and scowled, but didn't cry. Curling my fists into balls, I punched the floor and willed my legs to _stay strong goddamnit don'tfalldon'tfall getagripgetagripgetafuckinggrip. _Seconds passed, and when I saw that my knees wouldn't buckle, I tried to stand up on my own. I almost fell flat on my face, but held on, all the while scowling. My legs shook and my scowl deepened. I would not fail on this.

Despite all odds, I rushed into the kitchen with my wobbly and chubby legs, only to slam right into my father's legs. Afraid I was going to fall backwards, I gripped his pants like they would save my life. Everything was still for a moment, and then I lifted my face from his pants and gave him my best smile.

"Da!"

It wasn't exactly a word, and I barely ran a meter, but dad had been ecstatic. He picked me up and gave me his rough laugh, all the while nuzzling my cheek.

"…Shikae!" I distinctly heard my mom say. That particular word had been said to me more times than I cared to count, so I supposed it was my name.

I didn't realize the mistake of walking and talking at eight months old until the next day.

* * *

Well, this is it for the first chapter. I realize this isn't the most original idea, but please bear with me. As I said, I initially wrote this to get the idea out of my head.

But please don't let it discourage you, reviews are more than welcome!

Until next time, then.

_Yours, truly_

_-Red._


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